


Death

by whisperingpest



Category: Mythology
Genre: Death, Mythology - Freeform, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, death personified
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29211945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperingpest/pseuds/whisperingpest
Summary: Just a little drabble I did for an idea of Death.





	Death

Everyone's aware of the eerie feeling that comes when you wake up around 3 am, feeling like something is watching you. There are generally two reactions to that feeling, the uneasiness that dawns on you and the panic that settles in, making you jump and search - surely there's nothing actually in your room, right?

Except, for them, that feeling is familiar, it's embedded into them at this point. Insomnia does that to people. The slight panic picking up in your heart, the feeling that something could be watching you, the uneasiness that crawls up your back, for them, it's become something of an annoyance more than outright fear. Waking up at odd hours is common and nothing has ever been there before, so despite the nagging feeling nipping at their anxiety, why would there be something there now? 

Except...this time when they open their eyes, there's a figure looming over them. 

Surely, the proper reaction is fear. The proper reaction, from the proper person, is to scream, to run, to fight, to do something. But that's just...not what they do. Instead, they prop themselves up on one elbow, blinking and grabbing onto their glasses to allow the figure to take better shape; partially a ploy to make sure they aren't just seeing things again. When the figure is still there, their heartbeat picks up a small bit and their anxiety, well, it runs rampant. What if it's an intruder that's going to murder them? As long as it's quick... Or what if it's actually something otherworldly? They've never met anything otherworldly despite their interest in it and continued disbelief in it. One of those, you have to see it to believe it, people. That fear, though, that anxiety running through them gets stifled down. It's 3 in the morning and they've only been asleep for roughly two hours and something is standing over them and really, they'd better react quickly lest things get weird.

"Hello."

There's a silence for just a moment after that breaks the air as if the creature is debating just how to respond. And finally, in a drawn-out, hard to place sound, they answer.

"Hello." 

Now, something had been established and the voice that came from the creature? Person? It was hard to tell given how dark everything was, it merely seemed like a looming figure in a cloak. Certainly not something a burglar would wear. Still, its voice was...well, otherworldly. It was deep, smooth, like a bed of velvet, but also soft and comforting, like a warm hug. It made them feel...well, curious for sure, but also a sense of ease, a sense of peace. 

"I feel like I should ask but...." The words died from their lips as they grabbed their phone to shine on the creature, wanting to see a bit better. Only, when they did so, the cloak lit up, looking like old, weathered leather, but nothing came from shining it towards their face. Where something should have been, in between the edges of their hood, was just...nothing. 

"What -"

The voice came again, the comforting presence once again being noticeable as they spoke.

"I am Death."

Now that would be cause for concern, wouldn't it? But no panic came, no overwhelming urge to cry, no fear, just curiosity. Why was Death standing above them in the middle of the night?

"I don't understand. I haven't...well, I know I had a rough night but I didn't..." Confusion lit up their features as they set the phone back, finding it unnecessary to keep the light on when they could see nothing anyway. Besides, Death was standing in their room, mere inches from them. 

"Fear not, for I have not come for you. It is merely a coincidence that you are seeing me now."

"Well, if you haven't come for me...Oh, oh please no -" Now there was panic rising through them as the realization hit them. They weren't scared, not for themselves, at least, and not really at all, but the idea of losing such an important part of themselves filled them with grief. 

"All things must come to an end."

"Yes, but it's not fair. He's the only thing keeping me going half the time and and and - please. I can go instead, you're Death, you can do that, can't you? Take someone else?"

The creature tilted their head as they looked over the figure practically begging in front of them. There was a line in their work, in their existence. It wasn't as if they often had the ability to even choose who was to go, let alone did it much matter to them. Everything had its time, be it the fields of flowers or the long lives of humans and the companions they kept alongside to give their lives sense of meaning. People had begged before, of course, whenever there was enough time to see Death. Moments where they were losing loved ones or even for their own lives, bargaining was a part of the process. The only problem was, well, Death was quite fond of humanity and while it was their job to pass them on, it did become very hard when times like this happened. 

"I've heard you call out to me many times before, my dear. Why is that?"

The look of confusion on their face in response to Death's question must have been something. This was Death they were talking to, surely, Death had dealt with this many times before, worse even than their own fight with it, right?

"I mean," they stuttered, trying to form some sort of coherent thought. "Surely, you're very close to those with depression? I mean, you have to be. There are people who..."

"I am well aware. I'm not a stranger to it, I'm merely asking why you've called out to me so many times." Death liked to hear reasoning in moments like this, moments when they actually had a chance to talk, a chance to see just what it was that drove some humans. A bit of morbid curiosity, you could suppose.

"I - well - I'm tired. That's all it is. I'm exhausted. It just seems...easier."

A simple reasoning, something that held so much weight without delving too deeply into it. Death understood, of course, Death understood anything that had to do with their realm and this one was deeply intertwined with their own. Still...

"I do not often make the choice," the voice broke out again. "I do not kill. I merely collect the souls that are owed to me. I do what has to be done. However..."

Small extensions here and were something Death allowed, only in certain situations. And they were feeling particularly kind tonight. 

"I shall give you one more day. Tomorrow night, at the same time, I shall come by again to collect."

Their eyes lit up, though whether it was from thankfulness or from the tears threatening on the edge of their eyes, it was hard to tell. It was something, to have a moment to say goodbye, even if it would hurt so much more to be counting down the minutes.

"Thank you."  
__

The thoughts going through their head the next night were interesting, to say the least. Death was real. Well, of course, death was real but Death was real. Personified. Alive. Well, maybe not alive but walking and talking and existing. That had to mean something, didn't it? What else was real, what else was out there, was Death the only thing of the occult to actually exist? Really, this was going to create a crisis but at the same time, it gave them, once again, a sense of comfort. 

Though that sense of comfort didn't last much longer. It was nearing 3 am once again and they couldn't sleep, their cat curled up in their arms, wanting to spend as much time with him as they could before Death returned. He was sleeping soundly, of course. How was he supposed to know of anything that had transpired last night? It was going to be hard to let go, god, it was going to be hard to let go, but their tears had already been shed for now and they merely wanted to hold onto them for a few more minutes.

When the time came, they were ready. Still curled up beside them was their cat as they sat up with their legs over the bed, waiting. 

And right on time, the figure came. It was an odd experience, to be paying attention to the way Death appeared. It wasn't sudden, rather slow really, like they'd faded into existence right there on the spot.

"Hello."  
Death dealt with this many a time. Usually, even the screaming and begging couldn't get them to change their mind but here, there was none of that. The human seemed calm, collected even, and the hello was less filled with dread of the moment they knew was coming and filled rather with a politeness that someone used when speaking to a stranger. 

"Hello. Are you ready?"

Would they ever be? Of course, not. But life was fleeting and there would plenty of time to grieve afterwards. 

"No. But before you...well, do your job, could I ask you a few questions? If you don't mind. I imagine you're very...busy."

Once again, Death's head tilted at the odd request. People were usually too focused on the fact that they were speaking to Death and what that meant for them or the people they loved to really ask anything other than for Death not to take their lives or loved ones. Perhaps this was even what this was, but they seemed far too calm for that. Even those who were accepting didn't ask questions this calmly.

"I suppose I shall allow you your questions. Do keep in mind, however, that none of your questions will change the outcome of this."

They nodded, reaching over to stroke the sleeping cat gently before turning their gaze back to Death. There were millions of questions they could ask, things that evaded even the smartest of people that Death could know, answers all of humanity asked themselves late at night. But they wanted none of that, really, none of the usual. Death had to have questions like that constantly and if they answered, well, perhaps no one was meant to keep the answers to those questions.

"Why don't you have a face?"

All Death's answers before this had been calm, monotoned, direct. But with a question like that, the response they got was a chuckle, something that brought a smile to their lips, light and fleeting. Carefully, in response to the question, Death pulled down their hood. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the vision in front of them, finding Death to look vaguely familiar. A mixture of a lovely face that they'd definitely seen somewhere but just couldn't place it. It was beautiful, really, all the right angles, all the right features, even lovely blue eyes that were staring right back at them. They quite liked blue eyes.

"That...doesn't seem right, does it? What are the chances that you happen to look exactly the way I pictured you? Or did I happen to picture the way you looked on purpose?"

"My dear, I come in many forms. Should I so choose, I come in the form most pleasing to you. I can look however I like, whether it be any of your genders, any of your preferences, any of your curiosities. I am Death. Death comes in every form."

"That's a very good answer. But it's not an answer to a question I asked. Why didn't you have a face last night? When I tried to look, I could see nothing but darkness. And here you are smiling at me with the most beautiful face I've ever imagined. But I want to know what you really look like, what form you take of your choosing."

Quite honestly, the response from them threw Death quite off guard. The small smile on their lips dropped to fit with the curiosity of the rest of their features. 

"Most people do not ask such things. I assure you, should I show you what I truly looked like, it would scare you."

"Why?"

"I am Death."

They laughed softly, leaning closer to Death on the edge of the bed, hands settled beside them. It was such a silly answer. 

"That's a silly answer. I've seen horrible things done to innocent people, we've put ourselves through war and famine and poverty, we've done terrible things that should never have been thought up to each other. Humanity is cruel, Death, of which I'm sure you're aware. The images that the human brain conjures up are ridiculous. Oh...and I've seen tons of horror movies."

Once again, Death was left with curiosity at the responses of this human. Their form intrinsically inspired fear, even if it was relatively tame compared to the monstrosities humanity could think up. Death was something humanity was afraid of, individually or as a whole, it did not matter. And yet here this human was, calling Death silly.

Another moment of silence stretched before them and what sounded like a sigh came from Death's human lips. It was dark enough in the room that features could be obscured but their eyes had adjusted enough so that they could clearly make out the form in front of them, even as it changed. And change it did. All the flesh previously on their features was gone and they were left with something akin to a skull. As they looked on, however, they were unable to really settle on any features that were formed. There was no solid skeleton staring back at them with empty eye sockets, rather, there was what seemed to be an ever-moving outline of a skull, swirling wisps of what could be construed as smoke making up the bone structure. After a few moments, the swirling settled down and the structure became more clear but still, the wisps never quite stopped. 

It was breathtaking, really. Something so solid to create but still moving, never quite forming what could be considered touchable. And it made sense to them. Everything death was ever portrayed in, they were portrayed as a skeleton or corpse. And really, they weren't far off, because how hard was it to capture the reality of it? How difficult was it to take something ever-changing into something solid? Instead of shrinking back from Death, finding the form too much to hold onto, they stood, wanting to get a better look. Curiosity had always gotten the better of them.

"Can I touch you?"

"You cannot touch something that does not exist."

"But you do exist. You're right here, standing in front of me. I can see you. Your face may be...immaterial, but your clothing is solid, you are solid, I feel like I could reach out and touch you- Perhaps that would be rather rude, though, wouldn't it? Or it could kill me. Isn't that what happens in literature? Touching Death kills you?"

The action of Death tilting their head now was odd, the wisps of them moving in tandem but against each other within the same moment. Without the hood, it was hard to recognize as a movement at all. A hand rose from the mess of cloak that surrounded Death and it was as their face was, solid but not solid. It looked like a human hand, like something of substance and not the lack there of, but created out of something akin to smoke rather than flesh and bone. 

Hesitation was their first response. Of all the times they'd called out to Death, of all the close calls, all the curiosities, never had they been face to face with Death. It was daunting, terrifying for sure. But surely, Death knew what they were doing. So carefully, they reached out to grab onto Death's hand. 

The first feeling was that of any normal handshake. It felt solid, firm, tangible, like a human's hand, but devoid of either warmth or chill. A moment of holding onto Death's hand and the smoke, wisps, what really were you supposed to call those? started to rise up and around their own hand. It felt soft to the touch, like the brush of a particularly comfy blanket, light enough that it could have been a feather, and ever-moving like the rest of them. It was certainly odd. 

They found themselves focusing back on Death's face, taking in what little of features they could manage. This was a gift, really, to be able to meet Death face to face, to be able to touch Death, to be able to conversate with something so embedded in humanity without being human itself. 

"You are not afraid."

"No. No, I'm not. If anything I'm quite...how do I put this? I'm really rather intrigued."  
Something similar to a smile formed through the swirling of their features and their hand dropped, leaving a small gap between the two of them once again. 

"It is not often I find those who are not afraid of me. At least, not like this. Death is still a fear rooted deep in all of humanity but to be face to face with me and not recoil..."

They smiled in response to Death and moved to settle back down on the bed, looking back up towards them. "It sounds awfully lonely being Death. And awful, really. How - you must be terribly busy."

"I can be many places at once."

"Makes sense. Could you...this is going to be a very odd request. Could you...come back?"

That was a very odd request indeed. No one ever asked for Death's company, let alone if they brushed close enough with them to begin with. And here this human was, asking for Death to come back despite the circumstances of which they had come back in the first place. Still, to have someone ask such a thing was a curiosity within itself...

"Why?"

"I think you're...interesting. I mean, you're Death. And you're calm and pleasant and I would imagine, lonely. So, would you come back? It doesn't have to be for long. Death is constant but...perhaps a few more talks like this would be appreciated, on my end or yours. I'm sure my company would be rather boring but...it would be a nice change of pace, wouldn't it?"

Death hummed curiously as they contemplated everything the human had just said. They weren't asking for Death to change their mind on collecting or even asking Death to give them the answers to humanities biggest questions on death. They were merely asking for the company. 

And perhaps it did sound nice.

Without an answer right away, Death closed the gap between the two of them and leaned down a hand to brush over the sleeping cat, resulting in a quiet purr in response. Their gaze fell upon the human as they pulled their hand away, the cat perfectly undisturbed. 

"I believe, perhaps, another extension may be granted."


End file.
